


Heero the Henpecked Husband

by Omnicat



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:43:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/Omnicat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Okay dear. No dear. I know dear. Of course dear." </p><p>"Call me ‘dear’ one more time and I’m telling Une. Nick-names are never a good sign, coming from you."</p><p>Heero’s way of arguing was entirely unsatisfactory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heero the Henpecked Husband

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Nederlands available: [Heero de Pantoffelheld](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102490) by [CattyRosea (Omnicat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/CattyRosea)



Heero, seated on the edge of the spacious but currently rather messy bed, calmly leaned his elbows on his knees while Relena flitted to and fro like a bird in a glass cage. Wardrobe, vanity, bathroom, vanity, bathroom, wardrobe, nightstand, writing desk - he wondered where she got the air to keep on talking.

"- would you mind asking if there might be _hay fever_ involved before you torch the flowers and spark a panic talking about terrorist pollen poisoning?"

"Okay dear."

"And the staff has been checked _extensively_ , there are _no_ nutcases or dangerous dissidents inside, so you don’t have to knock champagne from people’s hands and start waving your gun around when the waiters look a little cross."

"No dear."

"And this occasion is _white tie_ , Heero. The full costume is _obligatory_ , shoes, coat _and_ cravat. As soon as you take even one article off, they have the right to throw you out again."

"I know dear."

"I tucked a note with a list of honorifics behind your right cuff link, but _please_ make sure nobody sees you using it."

"Of course dear."

Relena stopped in the bedroom doorway, one white glove half on and the other clutched under her arm, and looked at him suspiciously. "Call me ‘dear’ one more time and I’m telling Une. Nick-names are never a good sign, coming from you."

"Whatever you want..." Relena’s eyes narrowed. Heero smirked. "...dear."

Unfortunately, those fancy gloves did not fly no matter how hard you threw them; they only fluttered pitifully for a moment before landing on the floor.

Relena could only barely keep herself from tearing out her stylishly put up hair. While she huffed and stomped her feet in frustration, Heero stood up from the bed and picked up the glove from the floor. His arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her up against his chest.

It took a few moments, but eventually Relena’s cramped muscles relaxed, letting her sag against his firm torso. Her head fell against his shoulder and her mumbled words disappeared into his hair.

"Why do I have the feeling that something incredibly... _Heero_ -ish is going to happen when you’re being this easy?"

"Does it really matter whether I’m taciturn and stubborn?"

"Not in the long run." Relena sighed, and smiled wryly. "But it would put my mind at ease."

Heero "hmm"ed something and tugged at her wrist. While he helped her put on the second glove, he said: "You shouldn’t worry so much. Everything will be fine. Even with me around."

"I’m sorry for dragging you along with me to all these occasions, Heero. I know you don’t like crowds or public functions."

"I don’t mind. What needs to be done needs to be done."

Relena turned around and gave him a grateful smile. She straightened out his cuffs and cravat before putting her hands on his shoulders and pressing their lips together, briefly but tenderly. "I promise to make up for it. Tomorrow we’ll lock the door and send the staff home..."

Tomorrow was a saturday. Heero raised an eyebrow. "Morning or evening?"

"Morning, evening, afternoon, it doesn’t matter. You get to make the call. I’ll do whatever you want - except for whipped cream. You know I’m allergic."

Inner Heero smirked triumphantly and clapped himself on the shoulder; the henpecked husband trick always worked. Out loud, he said: "Let’s go."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments on older fics will ALWAYS remain welcome.


End file.
